Taking a fortifying breath, I opened the car door, shivering at the cold chill seeping through the thin material of my lilac maxi dress and short, fitted black leather biker jacket. My hair was straight and loose, the light breeze causing it to drift across my face.

Reaching across to the passenger seat, I pulled out the box housing the boards and, locking the car, slowly walked across the street to stand at the large wooden door.

Loud music was pumping from inside, and my stomach tightened with nerves. I wanted to see Elpi more than anything in the world, but I doubted he really wanted to see me. My knees shook as I lifted my hand and knocked on the door.

As I waited, I glanced round the small street, noting it was deathly quiet. It suited Elpi completely. A lonely studio on a lonely street for a loner sculptor.

The music continued to blare inside, and there was no sign of Elpi. Trying again, but knocking harder this time, I waited about five minutes before it sank in that he couldn’t hear me.

Feeling colder and colder by the minute, I glanced up the empty street again before shifting the box under one arm and tried the doorknob.

It turned.

The door creaked open, betraying the age of the studio, and revealed a long empty hallway leading in only one direction.

Taking the heavy box in both hands, I edged into the hallway, kicking the door shut with my foot, and called, “Hello?”

My voice was no contender against the blaring heavy rock coming from a room at the end of the corridor. Straightening my shoulders, I forced my feet forward and suppressed my nerves. The closer I got to the end of the hallway, the more I doubted my decision to come here. It was his private space. He most definitely would not want me intruding.

But as I thought to leave, I heard the poetic sound of a chisel chipping away at marble and I stilled.

I wanted to see him work. To observe an artist at work was a rare privilege. And more than that, I wanted, no, needed to see Elpidio again.

I couldn’t help it. I felt a pull within me that refused to let me turn round and leave.

Rubbing my lips together, I bent to place the box of text board drafts on the ground and crept forward to stand in the door-less doorway… And the sight that greeted me took my breath away.

Elpidio stood in the center of the room, dressed only in a pair of black ripped jeans, his top half bare, every inch of his olive skin covered in what looked like thousands of tattoos. There wasn’t one bit of naked skin showing. I’d never seen anyone so covered in ink in all my life. But aside from the tattoos, which had me gripping the doorframe with rigid fingers, were the thick defined muscles protruding over his shoulder blades, the cut pieces of flesh damp with the sheen of sweat, flexing with every blow from the hammer in his hands.

His bulging thighs were rigid as he stood his ground, carefully sculpting the back of a marble slab which looked to be the image of a young boy with a larger boy at his back whispering in his ear.

The heavy rock music filled the room, and before I knew it, my feet were carrying my forward like a moth to naked flame. The closer I got, the more I noticed.

Elpidio’s back was marred with scars. In fact, all of his skin had scars, both long and short, raised and flat, red and white. But one long, jagged scar ran along the back of his thick neck… a neck that was visible now it was free from the curtain of dark hair which was tied on the middle of his skull in a loose bun.

That made me smile. I’d always thought his long hair was like his protection, his mask. It pleased me to see when he was sculpting it was pulled off his face… like he was free of all constraints, pouring his soul into his carefully-crafted masterpieces.

It was overwhelming to see such a ripped and tortured man so raw and unkempt, but passionate all at the same time…

Feeling safe to step closer still, curious to catch a glimpse of what he was creating, I stepped forward, just as there was a change in music. The three-second pause between songs betrayed my presence as my foot pressed down on a creaky old floorboard, the sound of the groan echoing off the walls in the expansive space.

Like he was expecting a blow to the back, Elpidio whipped round, his chisel angled like a weapon. I froze, a slice of fear spearing down my spine.

Elpidio’s eyes widened as he saw me rooted to the spot, eyes shining with shock. His harsh and violent expression changed in an instant. He dropped his chisel to the ground as his dark stare bored into me.

We didn’t move. We didn’t speak. We just stared, our breathing increasing in speed. As my teeth ran over my bottom lip, I allowed my gaze to drift down his heavily tattooed and bulky muscled chest, his ripped and prominent abs glistening with the effects of his labor. His tapered waist boasted a sexy, defined ‘V’ showcased by his low-riding black jeans.

As my eyes journeyed back north, heat spread between my legs, and I groaned out loud feeling the unbearable pressure pulsing in my core.

Strands of loose hair fell over Elpi’s face, making him look like a forbidden dream. As our eyes met once more, the temperature in the room seemed to soar with the intense attraction that crackled between us.

I swayed on my feet, unsure of what to say or do, when on a pained groan, Elpi rushed forward, thrusting his large frame against my body and smashed his lips against mine, one hand clasping my hair and the other gripping my ass in an unyielding hold. I couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but be trampled by this man, this strong and commanding man making me lose all rational thought.

The taste of tobacco and beer filled my mouth as he moved his hand from my ass to begin tearing off my jacket. I gasped as my lips broke from his mouth, my jacket landing in a heap on the floor as another rock song pounded through the large speakers from the sound system across the room.